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ushing through the elm tree copse, Winding up the stream, light-hearted, Where the osier pathway leads-- Past the boughs she stoops--and stops. Lo, the wild swan had deserted,-- And a rat had gnawed the reeds. Ellie went home sad and slow. If she found the lover ever, With his red-roan steed of steeds, Sooth I know not! but I know She could never show him--never, That swan's nest among the reeds. E. B. BROWNING [Illustration: DEEP SEA FISHERS] MOONLIGHT SONATA It happened at Bonn. One moonlight winter's evening I called upon Beethoven; for I wished him to take a walk, and afterwards sup with me. In passing through a dark, narrow street, he suddenly paused. "Hush!" he said, "what sound is that? It is from my Sonata in F. Hark! how well it is played!" It was a little, mean dwelling, and we paused outside and listened. The player went on; but, in the midst of the finale, there was a sudden break; then the voice of sobbing: "I cannot play any more. It is too beautiful; it is utterly beyond my power to do it justice. Oh! what would I not give to go to the concert at Cologne!" "Ah! my sister," said her companion; "why create regrets when there is no remedy? We can scarcely pay our rent." "You are right, and yet I wish for once in my life to hear some really good music. But it is of no use." Beethoven looked at me. "Let us go in," he said. "Go in!" I exclaimed. "What can we go in for?" "I will play to her," he said, in an excited tone. "Here is feeling--genius--understanding! I will play to her, and she will understand it." And before I could prevent him his hand was upon the door. It opened and we entered. A pale young man was sitting by the table, making shoes, and near him, leaning sorrowfully upon an old-fashioned piano, sat a young girl, with a profusion of light hair falling over her face. "Pardon me," said Beethoven, "but I heard music and was tempted to enter. I am a musician." The girl blushed, and the young man looked grave and somewhat annoyed. "I--I also overheard something of what you said," continued my friend. "You wish to hear--that is, you would like--that is--shall I play for you?" There was something so odd in the whole affair, and something so comical and pleasant in the manner of the speaker, that the spell was broken in a moment. "Thank you!" said the shoemaker; "but our piano is so w
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